Blue Fur And Devil Eyes
by DarkSabertooth
Summary: Hank McCoy thought he was going to die at the hands of Sabretooth.Fortunately for him a certain Cajun is there to save him and become his friend.Movieverse introducing Beast and Gambit
1. A Life Not Ordinary

**A Life Not Ordinary**

**Disclaimer**

This is a movieverse story set shortly after the events of the first movie. Basically this is my attempt at introducing Beast and Gambit into the X-Men movieverse. This story centers on them although other characters will be appearing. 

_What does the word mutant bring to mind? Monsters, freaks, genetic mistakes, those are just some of the terms for those who are born different. The difference lies in our DNA, we are born with the X-factor in ours genes and whether that's a blessing or a curse remains to be seen. We have gifts, powers of which mundane humans can only dream and we use them for good or ill. At heart we're neither angels nor demons, despite our differences we are as flawed and as magnificent as the rest of humanity. In fact most of us look exactly like you; you probably pass mutants in the street every day without noticing. If we're careful to hide our powers most of us can lead a normal life without anyone ever suspecting they are anything out of the ordinary. Unfortunately some of us are noticeably different in appearance; some of us look like monsters. For those unfortunates they have no choice but to lead a life not ordinary. I should know since I'm one of them myself. My name is Henry Philip McCoy and this is my story. Please though call me Hank._

**The Duchess Tavern, ****Los Angeles******

Heads had turned when the man walked into the tavern, curious glances mainly directed at his clothing. It was the middle of August and still fairly warm despite the late hour. The man was bundled up as though it was the middle of winter. A long trench coat, gloves, hat pulled down over his eyes and a scarf obscured his lower face. Still he merely nodded politely and went over to the bar to order a beer. Choosing a table in a far corner he sat proceeding to read a paperback novel retrieved from a pocket of his coat. The patrons rapidly lost interest in this eccentric but seemingly polite and harmless individual. One set of eyes, cold and predatory never left him.

Victor Creed stared at the stranger and then sneered. From the scent he could tell this man was something out of the ordinary and there was the question of why he was wearing so much clothing. Maybe he had something to hide, maybe he looked different. Whether he was mutant or not Creed was looking for a good fight and this stranger would be as good a victim as any. Rising to his feet he strode over to the table and deliberately sloshed his drink in the man's face. Startled the man muttered something about stars and garters and his blue eyes gazed questioningly at Creed.

"Ya made me spill my drink ya fat bastard. I'm going ta kill ya fer that," snarled Creed.

Hank sighed heavily, he'd just hoped for a quiet undisturbed drink but it looked as though these hopes were dashed. Certainly he hadn't wanted the attentions of someone like Creed. Nearly seven foot high, extremely muscular, wild blonde hair, shaggy muttonchops and rather prominent canines made him more like some sort of werewolf than a human. Still perhaps he could defuse the situation and avoid physical violence.

"My apologies sir, here let me by you another," Hank's mellow tone was rather forced.

"Are ya trying ta be funny bub? I said I'm going ta kill ya. Are ya chicken or something?"

Creed leaned in close, amber eyes smoldering behind his dark sunglasses. He was so close now that Hank could count the individual bristles on Creed's unshaven chin. Sneering horribly Creed deliberately spat into Hank's beer.

"Very well then it looks as though it will have to be a fight after all. Obviously you are too overdosed on testosterone to listen to reason. So shall we step outside or is there any chance you'll settle for a friendly game of chess or an arm wrestle?"

"Yer kidding me ain't ya, unless yer too much of a wuss ta fight."

Hank looked away from Creed deliberately provoking a snarl. A gloved hand reached into a pocket in the trench coat and withdrew a photograph. Hank glanced at the photograph, placed it back in his pocket and looked up at Creed. Sighing heavily he rose to his feet and cleared his throat.

"Very well I'll fight you if that's what you want. Let's at least take it outside into the alley. I'd hate to disturb our fellow drinkers and I have no desire for collateral property damage."

"Fair enough bub, yer choice since it's going ta be yer funeral."

Hank grinned slightly, revealing a hint of canine. The patrons watched as he led the way to the back door with Sabretooth ambling along in his wake. Heads were shaken in sympathy, they knew all too well what was likely to happen. Probably they'd find his corpse in the morning or at least pieces of it. The bartender on the other hand offered up a silent prayer of relief, Creed's fights tended to get messy. There were still some bloodstains that just refused to come out no matter what was done.

**Alleyway outside the tavern**

"Alright bub, ground rules, no mercy, no retreat, anything goes. I promise yer it's going ta be painful but if yer lucky it's going ta be quick. Try ta put up a struggle, I hate prey that won't fight. So are ya ready ta die fatso?"

Creed gave his chosen victim another sneer, revealing impressive canines and incisors. His teeth were more like those of a predator, say a lion than a human. That grin could intimidate the strongest of hearts and send people screaming in fear. Hank though simply stifled a yawn and returned the grin with one of his own.

"Sir I don't start fights but I will finish them. Now I promise I'll try not to hurt you too much. Still I'm afraid I must confess to look forward to seeing you bloodied, bruised, battered and unconscious at my feet. Those who live by the sword die by the sword and that's a lesson you need to learn," Hank's stern voice only served to further enrage Sabretooth.

Creed snarled under his breath and slowly removed his leather jacket. Gloves and sunglasses followed and Hank found his eyes widening in sudden realization. Creed had been noticeably hirsute and he'd had somewhat of a predatory look about him. He was huge, towering nearly seven foot in height and built like a bear. Still he'd seemed fairly human up until now. Those amber eyes and most of all the sharp claws at his fingers marked him as a mutant.

"Yeah I'm a mutant bub, a predator. I'm king of the freaking jungle and yer going ta be my prey."

"Maybe sir, we'll see shall we. Mind if I just get ready. I would prefer a little freedom of movement and well I'm rather bundled up at the moment."

Creed gave a short curt nod. 

The trench coat, gloves, hat and scarf were swiftly flung aside and Hank finally kicked off his boots. It felt good to be free of the confining clothing he needed to disguise his rather bestial appearance. He sighed with pleasure as the breeze ruffled his fur. Hank grinned amiably at Creed showing fangs even more impressive than Sabretooth's.

"As you can see I'm a mutant too," 

Creed smiled to himself, his suspicions had been confirmed and perhaps this would be a challenge after all. Hank must have been a good eight inches shorter than him but he must have weighed nearly half as much again as he did. All of that bulk was muscle and there didn't seem to be a single speck of fat on the burly frame. At first glance he looked somewhat like a gorilla. Long muscular arms must have allowed him to scratch his shins without bending and those hands and feet seemed somewhat oversized. The most bizarre feature seemed to be the luxuriant blue fur which covered his entire body where it wasn't hidden from view by shirt or jeans. Taking a second look and seeing the sharp claws on fingers and toes he looked less like a gorilla. Perhaps more like a werewolf.

"Truly magnificent, yer the foe I've been waiting fer. Maybe ya will be as worthy as the runt I fought at the Statue of Liberty. Yeah I'm really going ta enjoy this fight. Yer a real beast ain't ya bub?"

He gazed deep into the gentle blue eyes searching them for a hint of savage feral nature. Those eyes seemed out of place in the bestial face. If the rest of his body seemed simian, his face had a much more lupine or feline cast. Slightly elongated pointed ears, a broad nose that was almost a snout, those long canines that protruded even when his mouth was shut. His hairstyle reminded Creed of the runt as well, almost identical in fact. It seemed aside from the fur he also had normal head and facial hair. Wild sable bangs rose from a widow's peak to tumble nearly to his shoulders. Those impressive muttonchops and the slight goatee only added to the general feral appearance.

"Hmm, Beast, a good a name as any I suppose. Well enough talking, let the battle commences."

Creed roared and leapt, claws slashing for Hank's throat but meeting only empty air. Growling uncertainly he sniffed the air. Looking up he saw Hank clinging to the wall, sharp claws finding easy purchase on the rough bricks. Hank leapt, somersaulting through the air to land neatly in front of Creed. Snarling Creed slashed wildly, a volley of swift blows that a bobbing, weaving Hank neatly evaded. For one of his bulk, Hank was extraordinarily agile and faster than even Creed could have anticipated. Creed snarled even louder as his frustration began to grow. Hank grinned and pulling back his fist slammed Creed in the jaw with all his strength.

Creed spat blood and went down like a sack of potatoes. His jaw felt as though it had been struck by a sledgehammer, plainly Hank was a lot stronger than him and if Creed hadn't rolled with the blow his jaw would have shattered. As it was his head was swimming and he was sure there was a fracture. Groaning he struggled to rise. 

"Look I'm obviously not the pushover you thought I was. I don't want this fight so why don't you just leave me in peace. I really don't want to have to hurt you any more."

Creed simply snarled and leapt once again.

**Several minutes later**

Hank twisted to one side dodging another slash of those claws. His reply, a straight-fingered jab under Creed's ribs sent the other mutant gasping for breath. So far they seemed to be evenly matched. Hank was stronger, faster and more agile but Creed more than made up for that in sheer ferocity. Already Hank was bleeding from several small wounds, nothing serious but the aggregate damage would soon add up and he'd drop from sheer exhaustion and blood loss. Creed's wounds on the other hand were healing right before his eyes. Hank had to end this fight soon one way or the other.

"Stars and garters," grunted Hank as Creed's claws slashed across his arm.

He couldn't afford to hold back in this fight any longer. Hank waited for an opening and managed a perfect punch to Creed's solar plexus momentarily stunning him. Taking full advantage Hank charged putting his entire weight behind one devastating blow. Creed was flung back against the wall with a sickening crack almost rocking the building to its foundations. He snarled weakly, struggled to rise and slumped to his knees. Hank eyed his bloodied, battered opponent warily wondering if the fight was finally over.

"Please, I'm begging ya no more. I was wrong ta think ya were prey, ya defeated me and I'm at yer mercy. I surrender," whispered Creed weakly.

"I accept your submission. I won't hurt you any more, just go and leave me alone," Hank caught the glint in Creed's eye just too late.

"Ya naïve fool, I never surrender," growled Creed lunging forward.

Hank just managed to get his arm up in time to block his exposed throat. He howled in agony as Creed's teeth ripped free a bloody chunk of flesh, muscle and fur from his arm. Claws ripped open his side, scraping agonizingly along his ribs and white hot bursts of pain as some internal organ was punctured. Hank collapsed and Creed grinned as he prepared to rip out his helpless enemy's throat.

"Fer what it's worth bub, ya put up a good fight. Ya were a real challenge but in the end ya were prey just like all the others."

"Look behind you," whispered Hank through blood-flecked lips.

"I ain't falling fer that old trick," growled Creed. He suddenly caught the scent and whirled to face his enemy but he was too slow.

Then the Bo staff crashed against his skull. Creed blinked, cursed himself for being too distracted with his prey to pay attention to his instincts. Then blackness drew around the edges of his vision and he felt a falling sensation. He slumped first to his knees and then face down in the dirt out cold. A boot pressed lightly on his chest.

"Bang you dead mon ami,"

**Immediately after**

Hank didn't really feel up to doing much at the moment except bleeding. He slowly blinked his blue eyes and took a good luck at his savior. He was definitely one of the most handsome men he'd ever seen. Tall, lithe and muscular and wearing a long trench coat like the one he'd discarded earlier. The man poked his staff in Creed's ribs a few times and nodded apparently satisfied that the feral would be unconscious for some time to come. Long strides took him over to where Hank lay in a crumpled heap. Hank moaned in pain and tried to back into the shadows. He was uncomfortable with people seeing his true appearance especially someone as handsome as this man.

"Dere is no need to fear Remy mon ami. Remy save your life so he is friend s'il vous plait. He promise dat he will not hurt you. Just want to check you for de wounds so dat we can get you to safety."

"Please just leave me alone," whispered Hank.

"Non mon ami, you need help and Remy won't leave you in dis alley to bleed to death."

The Cajun accent was enthralling, the voice rich and deep almost beguiling as it became soft and soothing. Hank rolled on his back, lying prone and just gazing up at his rescuer's face. Almost delicate, pronounced cheekbones, straight nose, heavy stubble, long copper bangs and red on black eyes. Hank relaxed slightly, this man was obviously a mutant too and he seemed friendly enough.

"I apologise for my hirsute, bestial, atavistic visage which is doubtlessly aesthetically displeasing to your sensibilities," murmured Hank.

He couldn't tear his gaze away from those eyes. They seemed beguiling, he found he was enthralled by this man as though he were his best friend in the world.

"Non mon ami, you a mutant just like Remy and if de truth be heard, Remy think dat you rather handsome," perfect white teeth showed in his grin.

Remy knelt beside him, tearing strips from his coat and binding up Hank's wounded arm and the hole in his side. Gentle fingers touched his arm in a gesture of comfort and friendship sinking deep into the soft blue fur. Hank moaned a little and managed to sit up.

"Come mon ami, Remy take you back to where you can be safe."

Leaning against Remy's shoulder for support Hank limped along by his new friend. He was going to be fine, he knew that for certain now.

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	2. In My Chest There Beats A Human Heart

**IN My Chest There Beats a Human Heart**

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_Conundrum is it worse to be born looking different and never lead a normal existence or to look human and then change into a radically different form. I don't know the answer and I very much doubt that anyone does. Still as long as I remember that in my heart beats a human chest I'll be alright. No matter how bestial my countenance I'm still the same man I've always been and I don't think that will ever change. I'm human in my heart and I find that is enough for me. At least that's what I tell myself._

**Apartment somewhere in ****Los Angeles******

All in all it had been a good thing that Hank had been able to limp along on his own. If he'd been unconscious there would have been no way that Remy could have carried him. As it was his shoulder was aching quite badly from Hank leaning on him. Still barring a few stumbles along the way Remy had soon brought him to the comfort and safety of his apartment. There had been one frightening moment when Hank collapsed to his knees in the doorway but after a minute he'd managed to struggle to his feet. Remy had guided him towards an armchair and Hank had sunk down on it with a heavy sigh. The chair had creaked ominously but managed to hold under his weight. After bidding Hank to remove his shirt so he could examine the wounds Remy went to get the first aid kit.

"I'd like to thank you again Remy for coming to my aid. It wasn't your fight and against a man like that well monster few would have been brave or skilled enough to face him. Most people would have fled at the sight of me. By the way my name's Henry Philip McCoy but you can call me Hank."

"Dere is no need to thank me mon ami. Remy has old scores to settle with Sabretooth and any enemy of dat scum is a friend to me. 'Sides, not like dat you needed much help, managed to beat up Creed pretty well on your own non?"

Remy cast his glance over the wounds and found once they'd been cleansed that they weren't as bad as they looked. The gash in Hank's side fortunately had missed any vital organs and while nasty the wound in his arm would heal. In fact Remy could swear that some of the scratches were already starting to heal.

"Dat strange mon ami, do you have a healing factor?"

"No not as such but I heal quicker than most, a week or two and I'll be back at full strength. That's one of the more fortunate aspects of my mutation, an enhancement of my physical capabilities, strength, speed, agility, resilience, manual dexterity and my olfactory, visual and auditory senses. Just out of curiosity and forgive me for asking but what abilities do you possess?"

"Non mon ami, Remy don't mind dat you ask. De best way for me would be to show you, see dis card mon ami? Now watch dis carefully."

Hank watched in fascination as Remy held up the playing card. A curious low-pitched hum and an aura of energy seemed to flow from Remy's hand into the card. A flick of the wrist sent the card into the air where it burst with a loud explosion. 

"See dat is Remy's gift mon ami, converting de potential energy of an object into kinetic energy. Makes a big bang oui? Remy has other gifts as well, de ladies dey take one look in the eyes of le diable blanc and dey cannot resist him." Remy flashed Hank a broad smile.

"Hmm empathy but somehow I sense you're a genuine friend. Do you know if there's anywhere I could sleep Remy, I just feel rather tired? The floor will do if there's nowhere else."

Remy smiled and taking hold of Hank's arm led him to the sofa. Hank lay down on it with a grateful sigh, curled up like a cat and within minutes he was deeply asleep. Remy stood watching Hank for a few minutes and curiosity drew him closer. He'd never seen a mutant who differed so radically from other humans before. Now Hank was asleep he could get a better look at him.

The wounds seemed to be definitely improving now; some of the minor scratches would have healed entirely in a few hours. Up close he could see that the fur really was blue although there seemed to be a finer undercoat of black fur. The face definitely seemed more feline than simian, especially the shape of his jaw, his nose and those elongated pointed ears. Also catlike were sharp canine teeth which protruded even when his mouth was closed and those sharp claws on his fingers. It was fortunate indeed that Hank seemed so gentle and peaceful, Remy didn't rate his chances too highly if it came to a fight between them. He might match Hank in speed and agility but one blow from those fists could probably kill a man. Still Hank didn't seem the type to kill.

"Wonder what dat is he's got in his hand. Whatever it is, he sure seems to be holding onto it tight. Still one little look will do no harm n'est ce pas."

Remy reached out intending to gently pry Hank's fingers apart so he could take a look at what he was holding onto. He wasn't going to steal it, just satisfy his curiosity. As soon as his fingers brushed against the fur he realized his mistake. He'd missed the twitching of the ears and even with his reflexes he had no chance to react before Hank. Remy yelped as an oversized hand grabbed hold of his wrist and squeezed painfully. Hank blinked awake and mercifully relaxed his grip just before he would have crushed the twenty eight delicate bones in Remy's hand to powder.

"My apologies Remy, I reacted instinctively and I didn't mean to hurt you. I just tend to get edgy when people sneak up on me. When your hand touched me, for a moment I thought it was Creed comes back and I acted without thinking. Please forgive me," Hank's blue eyes glinted with contrition.

"Dat's alright mon ami, no harm done. Didn't mean any harm, just curious about what dat is in your hand. Remy sorry dat he sneaks up on you and rest assured mon ami, it won't happen again."

Hank opened his hand revealing a crumpled photograph. He glanced at if for a minute and then handed it to Remy.

"Oh this is just a little reminder I have of the way I used to be. The man in the picture is me. That picture was taken oh five years ago now. Of course I've changed a lot since then," Hank gave a mirthless chuckle.

Remy looked at the photograph and had to agree with Hank, he certainly had changed a lot. At first Remy couldn't believe the man in the photograph could be the same person as the furry creature in the room with him. Looking more closely he could see the similarities; the eyes were the same though they seemed less weary. The hairstyle hadn't really changed although it may have been a little neater. This was a fully human Hank, his hands may have been a little large and he was certainly exceptionally muscular but you could pass him in the street without a second glance.

Remy gave Hank a long hard stare and nodded.

"Oui mon ami, you have de gift of understatement. So forgiving Remy's curiosities once again, are you going to tell your story?"

Hank shrugged his furry shoulders.

"I might as well I suppose."

He stood up from the sofa, stretched flexing his muscles and then jumped, somersaulting in midair. His claws dug in the ceiling as he hung upside down, arms folded across his furry chest. Remy quirked an eyebrow quizzically but gestured for Hank to begin.

"Well I always looked a little different, my hands and feet were abnormally large and I had a well rather Neanderthal look. I had a happy childhood though, parents who loved me, I was popular despite my strange appearance. My strength, agility and dexterity were uncanny even then and I was a superb athlete, I earned the nom de guerre Beast on the football fields. Curious how it turned out to be so prophetic eh? Still my mind has always been my greatest asset. I've been told I could well be one of the most intelligent people on the planet, up there with the likes of Reed Richards, Hank Pym and Bruce Banner. I excelled in all my academic studies but I was always fascinated by chemistry, biology and most of all genetics. I got my degree and qualified with flying colors as a bio-chemist. I set my major goal as studying the effects of mutation; I was one of the first to discover the X-Factor gene responsible for our powers. My fame quickly grew and just five years ago at the age of twenty six I was offered a job with the Brand Corporation. It was an offer I should never have accepted since here all my troubles began. You see it all started when I met a fellow scientist one Dr Nathaniel Essex."

Hank paused as Remy suddenly gasped.

"Please continue mon ami,"

Hank did just that.

**Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters**

Scott Summers stood attentively, eyes wide with concern behind his ruby quartz sunglasses. He straightened his slightly rumpled shirt before turning to frown at Logan. As always Scott was perfectly presentable, smart shirt and slacks, hair neatly brushed and he was clean-shaven. He was standing bolt upright, shoulders back and looking as though he had a pole up his posterior. At least that was how Logan put it. Scott continued to glare at Logan while the latter studiously ignored him.

"I'm very sorry to bother you Logan but could you put out that cigarette? Or at least could you try not to flick ash onto the carpet? That's if it's not too much trouble for you," Scott's voice contained the faintest trace of sarcasm.

"Ain't happening bub," growled Logan, blowing a cloud of smoke in Scott's direction.

Logan presented a stark contrast to Scott. He was unshaven and his muttonchops and hair could have done with a little grooming. He was handsome in a feral, werewolf dragged through a hedge backwards kind of way but the words pretty boy couldn't apply to him. He was wearing one of his tight black T-shirts, shabby denim jeans and no boots. Still much to Scott's disgust the students especially the female ones adored him and so did his own wife.

As Scott let out an exasperated sigh Logan simply grinned revealing a flash of incisor.

"Logan mein freund, would it be too much to ask that you try not to exasperate Cyclops?"

"Sorry elf, ya know it's hard ta resist when it's so easy ta get a rise out of him."

Kurt's tail was twitching, lashing from side to side with his agitation. They were all riled, on edge after the announcement that Sabretooth had resurfaced. Xavier was trying to track him down on Cerebro and now they were all waiting anxiously for the results. Storm repressed a shudder; she still had a slight scar on her neck. The words 'scream for me' still came to her late at night in her darkest dreams.

"Try to ignore them Kurt, sadly Logan finds it hard to control his testosterone at times and Scott can be a little too staid. We should just be thankful they haven't come to blows, not yet anyway,"

Ororo rolled her eyes; if her hair wasn't already white she was sure it would have turned that way by now. Kurt's yellow eyes glinted briefly and he patted her shoulder with a three fingered hand silently thanking her for her support.

Finally the doors opened to the Cerebro room and Professor Xavier beckoned them towards the War Room. Silently the four X-Men fell in and followed him.

**Several minutes later**

"These are two new mutants I've detected who got involved in the altercation with Sabretooth. Both are Alpha class, powerful mutants and they could be useful recruits for our course. When you go to Los Angeles your primary mission will be to make contact with Gambit and Beast as I'm designating them. Find them and try to get them to join us. If they've made an enemy of Sabretooth they could be in a lot of danger. This is especially true if as I suspect Sabretooth is a member of the Marauders. We still know far too little about this group."

"We know all we need ta Chuck, they're a bunch of mutants who kill normal humans and claim ta serve a sinister cause. Just a meaner tougher Brotherhood, we can handle them." Logan exhaled another cloud of cigarette smoke.

"Could you show us what they look like Professor?"

"Certainly Scott, they have a rather _distinctive _appearance."

Holographic images formed in the air of Beast and Gambit. Logan raised his eyebrows as he took in Beast, certainly a formidable looking mutant. Kurt shook his head sympathetically, he could empathize with Beast, and he knew only too well what it was like to look different. Ororo meanwhile only had eyes for Remy.

"By the bright lady, he is a handsome man."

"Right people let's get moving to the Black Bird. Oh and Logan, no cigarettes,"

**Near Duchess Tavern**

Creed was growling deep in his throat as he slowly limped along. His wounds were almost healed but the shame and humiliation would take much longer. His mind was full of pleasant images of Hank lying torn to shreds at his feet and he grinned. Perhaps he'd stumble on a derelict or someone foolish enough to be out at this time of night.  A good murder would be just what he needed to cheer him up. Lost in thought he almost didn't duck in time as a volley of spikes and shuriken whistled through the air. High cackling manic laughter echoed through the night as another rain of missiles flew towards him. Creed rolled and escaped with just a few lost strands of hair and a minor gash on his cheek.

"What the freaking hell is going on?"

Another manic giggle and then he saw what he took to be a small tornado. Blinking he realized it was a man spinning round and round at an insane speed, long white hair billowing out behind him. More spikes and shuriken whirled towards him and he leapt behind a wall for cover.

Immediately a crackling jet of plasma crackled through air towards him. Creed snarled in anger as his jacket ignited and tearing it off he stamped out the flames. Glancing round he saw a blonde haired, wild looking man sneering at him before firing off another plasma jet. The grin was quickly wiped from his face as Creed's fist smashed into his jaw.

"Alright bub, ya can tell me what's going on unless ya want me ta rip yer throat out,"

No more spikes or shuriken came but he heard a hiss and then something moist and sticky swept across his cheek. Creed growled and turned to see a familiar greenish face smirking at him.

"Toad, what are ya doing here ya amphibious freak? Are behind these two goons who just tried ta ice me?"

"Charmed to see you too old friend. As for Havok and Riptide they were a little test to see if you're good enough to hear my boss's little offer. Since you survived you get to hear him out. Here he is now." Toad leapt back into the cover of the branches.

Another figure stepped out of the shadows, nearly as tall as Creed and though lean, well-muscled. Creed glared at a face nearly as hairy as his own and snarled. Cold blue-gray eyes bored into his own and Creed found himself locked by the gaze. A grin slowly spread itself across the man's face.

"Greetings Creed, I heard all about your little run in with Beast and Gambit. I figure you'd want revenge on them and since we're here to kill them why don't you join us? Toad told me a great deal about you and frankly I'm impressed," the voice was rich and deep, beguiling.

"I'm interested bub; yeah I don't have anything better ta do. Count me in," 

"Excellent, by the way my name is Maximus Lobo. I'm really glad you decided to join our little group. People like you are just what we need for the Marauders. I'm sure Mister Sinister will be anxious to properly greet you."

"Yeah, yeah, so when do I get ta kill?" growled Creed.

"Oh the hunt begins right now my dear feral. Just excuse me while I change,"

Lobo grunted as he slowly shifted form, gaining height and weight as coarse black fur sprang up all over his body. Creed took an involuntary step backwards as the hulking form loomed over him. The mutant lycanthrope's red eyes glinted as he extended a clawed furry hand to Creed.

"Ready to hunt?" asked Lobo in a voice little more than a growl.

"Yeah," growled Creed.

Reaching out he shook the furry hand and gave Lobo a grin every bit as savage as his own.


	3. A Lone Wolf Needs A Pack

**A Lone Wolf Needs a Pack**

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_I believe in the Darwinian principle of evolution, survival of the fittest. I also believe that there are only two kinds of creature, predator and prey. We mutants are superior to humans in every way, we are their successors and we shall render humanity unto extinction as they did the Neanderthals before them. There can be no room for such weaknesses as mercy, remorse or compassion in our hearts. No my heart sings to the pleasure of the hunt and the greatest joy for me is to rip out an enemy's throat with my fangs and savor the salty metallic tang of his warm lifeblood. Please don't think I hate humans though. After all does the wolf hate the deer or the gourmet the steak? Such is the creed of I Maximus Lobo, member of the dominant species and leader of the Marauders._

**Apartment somewhere in ****Los Angeles******

"I was involved in research into the origins of genetic mutation. Dr Essex was the head scientist and he and I quickly formed a bond. He told me how glad he was to have me on his term, how he'd admired my papers and theories. He actually said I was the most promising young man he'd met since Albert Einstein. I assumed he was joking but looking back he was telling me the truth. As he was when he claimed to have been there when Darwin announced the Theory of Evolution. At the time I simply thought he had a quirky sense of humor. He just seemed so genuine, so kindly and affectionate. He was my mentor Remy, my friend and well he seemed to see me as the son he never had. He was more than just my boss, more like a favorite uncle. That made it all the more shocking when I found out just what he really was."

Hank stopped speaking for a moment, cast his gaze towards the ground. He sighed softly, shoulders slumping and Remy placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"I just can't believe I was so foolish and naïve. I can't believe how close I came to unwittingly becoming the harbinger of genocide. He used my research, twisted it and used it to bio-engineer his own creation. He created something, called it Legacy since he claimed, 'their legacy shall be your future'. This virus was his child, his ultimate dream made flesh and my darkest nightmare. I was the unwitting creator of this plague. It was insidious, a hundred per cent contagious, invisible, and airborne, it would have infected potentially all of humanity. Then it attacked the DNA, killing those who weren't strong enough and causing spontaneous mutation in the rest. That was his dream, to bring about the extinction of humanity and it's replacement with a new race of his own creation."

"Merde," that seemed the only appropriate comment.

"To my credit I soon had my suspicions that something was amiss. I investigated and learnt to my horror just what I'd helped create. As soon as I did I destroyed the virus, purged all the data from the computers so Essex could never recreate it. Then bolstered by anger I confronted him and told him he was going to pay for what he tried to do. I thought I could capture him, bring him to the authorities but I'd badly underestimated him. He simply laughed and before my eyes he changed into something monstrous. Pale white skin, blazing red eyes, he looked like some vampire. I knew then he was a mutant himself or something close. We fought but I was no match for him. Soon I lay helpless and defeated and my last thoughts were that I was going to die. He didn't kill me though but simply berated me for my naivety and told me how disappointing I was. He seemed almost regretful as he told me I had to pay the price for my betrayal. He also said that he knew one day I would take my rightful place at his side. Then I felt a sharp pain as a hypodermic syringe plunged into my skin, blackness and then nothing more."

Hank jumped down from the ceiling and landed back on the sofa. He huddled up, legs drawn up under his chin, his long arms draped around them staring unblinkingly at Remy with those intense blue eyes. 

"I was in a coma for three weeks and when I woke up I looked like this. My parents, my family were supportive; they said I was still their son no matter how I looked. I guess I just went to pieces though, broke myself out of the hospital and ran. I've kept on running ever since, going from place to place and never settling, keeping to myself and allowing nobody to get close. Until today I've never met anyone who I could consider to be a friend. I don't know why Remy but I trust you. Well that's my story and a sad, sorry tale it was too."

Remy patted Hank on the shoulder. Hank frowned, eyes narrowed suspiciously as he gazed at Remy. Remy gave him a broad grin and then he spoke soothingly; almost as though Hank was a child he was comforting.

"Non mon ami, dere is nothing sad or sorry about you. De hand dat fate dealt you, not your fault and you can't be blamed for running scared. Non, not your fault dat Essex tricked you and in de end he lost. You caught onto his plan and destroyed de virus, he simply exacted petty vengeance on you. Remy know Essex of old, have bad experience with him. Remy make bad choices too, make mistakes but unlike you, he not get de chance to put them right. Remy must live with de guilt for de rest of his life and know dat in his heart dat he is not a good man. Hank mon ami, Remy has a suggestion."

"Hmm," muttered Hank, shaggy brow furrowing.

"How about dat instead of dwelling on de past we enjoy de present instead? It would do us both good to get out dere and enjoy ourselves. Remy know dis great place, de bar called de Auger Inn and dat dey welcome mutants dere, even if dey big, blue and furry like you. We get drunk, pick up some girls, and have de good time s'il vous plait. So does dat sound like de good idea to you mon ami?"

For a second Remy thought he'd somehow angered Hank. The mutant's face seemed to have twisted into a snarl. Then relaxing Remy realized Hank was simply deep in thought. Clawed fingers stroked at the fur on his chin as Hank pondered eventually coming to a decision. Fangs showed slightly in his grin as Hank nodded slowly at first and then enthusiastically.

"Stars and garters, that sounds just what I need Remy. Well if it comes to the worst and Sabretooth attacks again at least you'll be fighting at my side. Well lets go shall we?"

**Blackbird**

"Ya know bub ya could turn the Blackbird right round and go back ta the mansion. Seems a lot of bother fer nothing ta me though. OK so they weren't officially assigned ta this mission but neither was Colossus yet ya invited him along all the same. OK so Shadowcat and Iceman are not officially X-Men. I thought ya said yerself though that they're nearly qualified. Besides what better way fer them ta learn than a little field experience."

Logan folded his arms across his chest and fixed Scott with a glare from his hazel eyes.

"Logan, sneaking on board the jet is hardly responsible behavior and they seem to think this is just a game. Oh I can understand how it might seem fun but they just don't know how ugly things could get. We may certainly be going up against Sabretooth and quite possibly the Marauders. I can't allow two of the students to go into danger. If I did so I'd be just as reckless and irresponsible as you seem to be."

"Ya have ta admit it showed initiative fer them ta bypass the security though. Anyway ya can't mollycoddle em forever Cyke and ya know it. They face danger everyday just by being mutants. The sooner they learn the ugly truth the better off they'll be. Anyway like I said too late fer us ta turn back now," Logan sneered and lit up another cigarette.

Scott smiled pleasantly and nodded almost imperceptibly. Reaching over he gave Logan a paternal pat on the shoulder.

"You're quite right Logan loathe as I am to admit it. Yes they might as well stay on board now and who knows they might even be a help rather than a hindrance," he said in a deceptively gentle tone.

"Hey I'm the best there is bub,"

"Of course I'm putting you in charge of them Logan. Since you so eloquently argued for them staying you get to supervise them and keep them out of trouble. Have fun,"

As Logan growled deep in his throat Scott grinned smugly and leaned back in his seat. With any luck Logan might end up with some idea of what it was like to have so much responsibility. Perhaps a miracle would occur and Logan would finally give him the respect he deserved. Scott doubted that but for the moment he'd cherish the look on Logan's face. Scott's grin only disappeared when Kitty suddenly walked right through him and the seat.

He gave a startled yelp and leapt out of his seat banging his head on the roof. Groaning he sat back down rubbing his sore head as Kitty shrugged apologetically.

"Sorry Mr Summers, I was just going to talk to Logan. I didn't mean to startle you."

"Quite alright Kitty, just remember we have a center aisle for a purpose."

"Hey One-Eye want me ta kiss it better?"

"Zip it Logan," growled Scott.

Nightcrawler half listened to Piotr's and Bobby's lively discussion. He just didn't feel like talking to anyone at the moment. His tail twitched back and forth in agitation as he gazed at the image on his laptop. A computer generated image of Beast gazed back at him. For nearly half an hour he'd been unable to take his eyes away from the image.

"Ja mein freund, I'm not the only one who looks different. Maybe ve have much in common. Maybe you can understand what it's like to be seen as a monster. I vonder vether you too vish only to be accepted. Ja, you are not monstrous to me, I know you have a kind heart. Why I think this I don't know, maybe it's intuition but I know it's true. Don't you vorry my brother for I am coming to you, to let you know that you aren't alone. No you're never alone."

**Park somewhere in ****Los Angeles******

It's never a good idea to walk through parks at the dead of night, like the proverbial dark alley you never know who you might meet. This is especially true in a city like Los Angeles and this park in particular. People had been mugged, raped and they'd even been a still unsolved murder. Sensible people, mostly locals knew better than to cut through the park at night. These two young men were young though and from out of town. Slightly the worse for drink they were wandering through the park with trouble on their minds, a spot of minor vandalism perhaps. Unluckily for them they were about to find more trouble than they could ever hope for. Watching them from the shadows was a predator.

"Aye, come closer t'ye papa lads. Come t'me fer ye just the type of human inferiors that really gets m'goat. Yuir deaths will be very beneficial t'the gene pool."

Andrew Hamish Graves grinned savagely and prepared to pounce. He was better known as Spoor, mutant and member of the Marauders. Like Beast he was one of the unfortunate mutants who looked different. Also like Beast he was covered in shaggy fur though his was brown. Again like him he possessed sharp fangs and claws, superior strength, agility and senses. Unlike Beast he also possessed another power, the ability to release clouds of pheromones allowing him to induce emotional changes. The main difference between him and Hank though was his attitude. To put it simply Spoor was a savage bloodthirsty monster who loved to kill. The general opinion amongst his comrades was that he had a death wish and that he was a total control freak. All in all he wasn't a particularly pleasant character.

"Prepare t'die lads fer Spoor's come fer ye sassanachs!"

Spoor stopped nonplussed as instead of running the two young men simply grinned at him. He growled a little and then stood still, blinking in confusion. The humans were supposed to scream and run. Then he was taken even further aback when one reached out and touched his arm. The young man grinned as he felt the coarse bristly fur.

"Hey this costume's really good mate. I bet you're from that Star Wars convention right? Yeah you make a great Chewbacca."

"What the hell are ye talking about? Also get ye hands off the fur!" Spoor's voice rose to a roar.

"I dunno mate, I reckon he looks more like a werewolf. Must be going to a party. Hey mind if we join ya mate?"

Growling Spoor considered just slashing them and being done with it. The trouble was he'd been put off his stride and he just wanted to be rid of them. Pheromones drifted into the night sky and Spoor grinned seeing eyes widen in fear. He chuckled as the terrified young men promptly fled for their lives and all but collapsed in a fit of growling giggles when they stumbled into the pool.

"G'day and just take a look at this gorgeous critter. Yes he's a beautiful boy," an Australian accented voice chirped.

Spoor's good humor instantly evaporated as he turned to see Steve Irwin peering at him. The Crocodile Hunter faded as though he'd never been and Spoor growled deep in his throat.

"Not in the least amusing Martinique. Keep yuir little jokes t'yeself woman," he snarled.

"Oh I'm sorry Andrew, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings," whispered Mastermind's sultry voice.

Despite himself Spoor felt his anger fading as Martinique walked towards him. He thought her beautiful, her slender figure, rich mahogany hair which tumbled over her forehead shadowing one green eye. She smiled demurely and winked. Spoor grinned back exposing canine and then shut his hazel eyes blissfully. Fingers brushed the fur on his arm, tracing the muscles right up to where his sleeveless vest covered up the fur. Fingers moving, ruffling his beard, scratching behind his ears. Spoor purred.

"Aye, yuir forgiven Mastermind," rumbled Spoor.

"Now that is just disgusting, I mean is there anything that you won't flirt with Martinique?" 

Toad quickly leapt away into the undergrowth as Spoor turned with a snarl. The only trouble Toad thought with tormenting dumb animals was the likelihood of getting bitten. A few more leaps took him into the presence of his master. Maximus Lobo was in his human form for now, still intimidating, still somewhat lupine. Toad landed next to him leaning back on his haunches. His tongue flicked out, snagging a few moths. He paused and wiped his mouth before speaking.

"So master, have we got our orders yet?"

"You're just in time Toad. Our master comes,"

Lobo knelt, baring his throat in the appropriate gesture of submission. He looked up, eyes bright with anticipation as an imposing yet regal figure emerged from nothingness. Red eyes burned bright in a pallid satanic face and a gloved hand patted Lobo on the head. The token of affection that an owner might give a devoted dog.

"Sinister, master, you have come," whispered Lobo, his tone akin to awe.

**The Auger Inn**

Hank hesitated at the door but finally stepped through at Remy's impatient gesture. Nodding reassuringly Remy doffed his trench coat and placed it on a rack. It took some time for him to persuade Hank to do likewise. He stood guard until the hat, the scarf and the trench coat were all removed. Then he literally had to drag Hank towards the door, no mean feat with his bulk. Claws dug into the carpet as Hank stood in the entrance, blue eyes going wide.

He was surprised to see he wasn't the only 'aesthetically differing' person there. Most looked normal but some were definitely mutants. A beautiful furred feline woman with a long tail winked at him seductively and Hank gave her a nervous wave. Slowly uncertainly he took a few steps inside and turned to look back at Remy. He expected to see Remy smiling at him encouragingly. Instead it seemed Remy had already entered. Scanning the room Hank caught him deep in conversation with a purple haired Asiatic looking woman.

"Bonjour chere, good to see you again Betsy."

Hank sighed, really he should have expected for Remy to be a big hit with the ladies. He was about to wander over to the bar when a claw tapped him on the shoulder. It was the cat-woman who'd winked at him a minute ago.

"Hi cutie, they call me Feral."

"Really? They call me, hmm Beast,"

Remy grinned; it looked as though Hank was going to be just fine. His eyes roved across the bar and he saw one woman sitting alone. She was perhaps the same age as him, African American and distinguished looking, intellectual, a teacher or maybe a doctor. Remy decided he'd try and introduce Beast to her later. She might be more his type unlike the wild if alluring feral.

"Oui Hank mon ami, Remy make sure dat you have a good time."


End file.
